


Widow Works

by rougerage



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: and just writing for Nat makes me happy, and nothing else, cause she's so great, don't even know if i'll keep it going, i might cause i need the practice for her, like its just me practicing writing for Nat in different situations, literally just practice for writing her, yeah i'm done now sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:25:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1862838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rougerage/pseuds/rougerage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God, how she wished he was right, but she had tried to stop, tried to put it to rest and stop with all the adventuring, the espionage and the agent work but she couldn't. And every time she tried to put it behind her, something came back, something or other reminded her of her roots, how she had been trained. Natalia had tried to term it as how she was ‘raised’ but you don’t ‘raise’ an assassin, you train an assassin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Widow Works

“There’s a chance you might be in the wrong business.”

When Steve had said that, back in the truck, he probably didn't think that it would plague her mind as it now does. When the whole business with HYDRA had blown over, she had given herself time. Time to make new covers, time to think. Time to brood over that one sentence. God, how she wished he was right, but she had tried to stop, tried to put it to rest and stop with all the adventuring, the espionage and the agent work but she couldn’t. And every time she tried to put it behind her, something came back, something or other reminded her of her roots, how she had been trained. Natalia had tried to term it as how she was ‘raised’ but you don’t ‘raise’ an assassin, you train an assassin. 

“Good morning! How are you, miss?” 

Horrible, stiff, paranoid, burdened. “I’m doing well, thank you. I’d just like some plain coffee and a blueberry muffin.”

What an easy lie, she had barely even thought about it before she answered with the easy, fake smile. Paying and moving to the side to wait for her breakfast as she found herself observing the other occupants for the third time. Once she had released all of SHIELD’s intel to the world, she had been paranoid, wondering who recognised her, if anyone recognised her for the wrong intentions. She continued to send casually covert glances to those around her even as she had retrieved her small meal with a curt ‘thanks’ and moved toward the streets of Philadelphia.

“I wonder how that building in DC’s doing. I saw some of the stuff that was put out there, how could that have happened right under all our noses?”

And yet, she still hadn’t lost the brisque feeling of paranoia, of caution as crowds milled through. Conversations moved in and out of her hearing just as the people did.

“My mom is being so obnoxious, calling every day since I left for college-”

“I heard about a new restaurant we can head to for lunch, up for it?”

“The business proposal is ready and I’m heading to the meeting now-”

"That whole thing about those crazy guys, what were they called again-"

"Target sighted, Christian and 9th-"

"That homework was really annoying-"

Wait. She replayed the conversation in her head, stopping at the one about a 'target' that had come from her 7 o'clock. She found herself slipping further into paranoia, they had to be talking about her. Quickening her pace in slow increments she found herself blindly moving with the crowd, mind now filled with directions and possible plans instead of overheard conversations and the caution. Her luck seemed cursed, a no cross sign currently suspended walking traffic in the direction of her current and short term hideaway.

Short Russian curses flew in an undertone from her lips as she slowed to glance around at the buildings and streets. A sharp right turn brought her to a less crowded side street that she hustled along, aiming for the upcoming intersection, where people walked across in her desired direction freely. Another sharp turn, this time to her left had her immersing in larger crowds, weaving her way through in practiced motions in any way possible to evade whoever that was back by the café.

"In pursuit, she's heading up Darien."

This time it was farther behind her, holding a hushed and irritated tone. At least they were having trouble with the crowds. But still she found herself walking even faster, moving more recklessly through the masses toward another turn. A left, still at a sharp and heavy pace, coffee and pastry bag gripped tight. A right and then another obstacle, a suspicious male working his way towards her from 12 o'clock. Another left to the other side of the street and continuing forward. Sharp glares and observational but accusing glances at those around her and in front of her.

This was why she could never be in the 'wrong business' or hope to get out of this business. She was in far too deep. Her ledger was dripping a red that left a brand on her head, a target on her back.

Children's laughter and squeals increased in volume as she speed-walked towards an upcoming playground, going straight through the middle in effort to once again lose the pursuers. The rambunctious children were everywhere, parents intermingled every so often as she pushed through to the other edge. She wasn't about to be caught, not about to go down because of whoever thought it was a good idea to send someone or a group of someones after the master spy turned assassin. Through the playground and another left made the clamour gradually fall behind with another right. She was close, but there were fewer masses of people to conceal herself among. Less cover and less-

"Pursuing target down 10th-"

And with that she ran. Paying little mind to the breakfast items in her grasp she ran towards the next intersection, not even bothering with the 'no crossing' sign displayed for the left turn, hopping over cars screeching to a halt as she rushed through another right turn. Two pairs of running footsteps pursued her, and Natalia burst into the bank ahead to dash through, maybe buying herself time.

God, she was close, only a block away and she might be able to lose them. That thought drove her forward. On typical missions Natalia would have acted lost and confused so as to later lead them into an alley before confronting whoever had the idiotic idea to stalk her. But the paranoia of having her information out to the public, the constant caution, the hushed voices and the quick glances had morphed her strategy.

Back on the street, she moved as far from the bank as quickly as possible without gaining too much attention. Another turn and she could see it, her definitely not suitable safe house. Another two intersections and she is rushing through the park towards the center and the largest possible tree she can find.

She's up within seconds and scanning the area as she was trained, green eyes wide with alert and body poised to leap at any moment. A few joggers, a couple on a bench but no one like the suspicious man on the streets and his accomplice. No one panting as they searched around the park. But she couldn't let her guard down, even as she leaned back against the trunk. The coffee was bitter and lukewarm at best. The muffin jumbled and the possible heat from the oven disappearing as she eats quickly. The foremost thought on her mind is nearing parking lots where she can 'borrow' a car as she remembered Steve putting it. Thinking of places she can go to maybe have a short break to form a shabby cover. Any cover really, would work right now.

She mulls over the options of possible havens, possible favors to pull as her coffee is drained from its cup and left to sit in the bag the muffin had formerly housed. Another sweep of the surrounding area yields nothing of particular attention. When she thinks about it Steve and Barton might have laughed if they knew her status now, how she was hiding away in small buildings, sleeping in trees, doing her best to move unnoticed by anyone, coming up with shabby covers and aliases to hide behind for a short while. Her hair was growing greasy and unruly and the last time she looked in a mirror she had seen dark circles beginning to take hold under her eyes.

Being on the run was rough, and she wouldn't dare ask anyone she knew back from SHIELD to help her. She would have to do this alone, and do it quickly.

Another sweep of the area.

The adrenaline from the short chase was faltering now, the paranoia less apparent and her body relaxing against the tree further. She didn't dare go higher in the branches, that was Barton's thing anyway, and Natalia stayed at a height where she was able to see the entire park without being seen unless you were directly under it but she had an escape route where she could lunge out without risking too much injury. She had already tested it twice with nothing more than a grass stain to prove so. But the worst part was the short dozes she allowed herself sometimes, either void of anything but cold black or filled with old missions, old faces.

Deeming the coast clear enough she dropped from the tree and moved away at a brisk pace, discarding her trash in a nearby bin. There should be a parking lot within 5 blocks of here, and she intended to use whatever means necessary to get out.

But even then, her ledger would just bleed with more red. Bleed with more misdeeds and more guilt. Because she wasn't raised, she was bred into this.

She was in the right business, because she had been bred and trained for nothing else.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed practice cause I REALLY wanted to RP Nat with a friend so I ended up like cramming as if I was taking an exam on it then wrote this... I haven't really edited it to much so if you see something, please leave a comment. Thank you for reading, loves!


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